By GCom
Iâ€™ve a 2:00 appointment to sit down with a gentleman wanting me to sell a book.
Weâ€™re going to sit down, discuss this deal. Itâ€™s a small press book from a creator whoâ€™s just getting out his first project. Iâ€™m talking to his â€˜managerâ€™, I think. They want me to give them shelf space for [...]

By GCom

Iâ€™ve a 2:00 appointment to sit down with a gentleman wanting me to sell a book.

Weâ€™re going to sit down, discuss this deal. Itâ€™s a small press book from a creator whoâ€™s just getting out his first project. Iâ€™m talking to his â€˜managerâ€™, I think. They want me to give them shelf space for this new book, but I want to talk particulars before I agree to anything.

Iâ€™ve done this frequently. Sometimes I break even, often I loose money. I still keep letting it happen though, because everyone deserves a shot, especially in this industry. If I can give someone a hand, I do it.

I arrange my day to make space for this meeting. I figure if I give up some of my lunch-time, and take care of some workload in a slightly rushed-manner, I can spare an hour. If the meeting is over in less than an hour, then I get to eat!

At 1:50 or so Iâ€™m out on my store floor and looking out the display window. Thereâ€™s a gent in a motorcycle jacket and jeans pacing back and forth on the sidewalk having a conversation on his cell phone. I make small talk with a couple of people until I notice itâ€™s 2:07.

At 2:10 I sit down at the front workdesk and watch a little TV. An episode of Angel was on. Eh, Iâ€™d seen it already.

2:13, and my fingernails were now very clean, as well as being slightly gnawed on.

2:14 lands, and in walks the gent in the motorcycle jacket. He greets the Filthy Assistant when heâ€™s given a â€œHelloâ€ and proceeds to wander about the store.

2:18 sticks its tongue out at me. I decide to start browsing local menus and get something to eat.

2:23. A Southwest chicken wrap is ordered from the place across the street. Nummers!

2: 25. Wow, the girl walking by outside was HOT!

2:28. Discussion of the HOT girl who walked by concludes.

2:29 Motorcycle jacket-guy walks up to the checkout desk. â€œHi. Iâ€™m here to see Jerry.â€
â€œThereâ€™s no Jerry here, Iâ€™m sorry.â€ says the Filthy Assistant. Iâ€™m nearby because the HOT girl might walk by again, and Iâ€™m listening in because sometimes people get my name slightly wrong.
Motorcycle Jacket-Guy says â€œUmmâ€¦ Iâ€™m sâ€™posd to meet Jerry here at two to tawk about a bookâ€¦â€
I look at my watch real quick and confirm that yes, this guy is late. Wait, hasnâ€™t he been walking around for a while?
â€œYou mean Gary. Heâ€¦â€ starts the Filthy Assistant.
â€œYeh. Him.â€ Says Motorcycle Jacket-Guy, cutting off my Filthy Assistant.
â€œIâ€™m Gary.â€ I say while striding forward and smiling.
Motorcycle Jacket-Guy lowers his fly-sunglasses to the bridge of his nose and looks at me over the top. â€œYeh. Hey. How yeh doinâ€™?â€
â€œI do well.â€ I say as I extend my hand for a handshake.
Motorcycle Jacket-Guy pushes his sunglasses back to the proper point and shakes my hand. Limp and fast handshake. Two pumps.
â€œYeh. Well, hereâ€™s what we got. Itâ€™sâ€¦â€ starts Motorcycle Jacket-Guy as suddenly his pants sound an alarm.
â€œPardâ€™n me.â€ says Motorcycle Jacket-Guy as he reaches behind his back and pulls out his cell phone.
I stand at ease as I wait for him to get off the phone and talk to me.
â€œYeh. Hey Jan!…. yehâ€¦.no, Iâ€™m inâ€¦. noâ€¦. yehâ€¦ no, not â€˜till he pays for itâ€¦.â€ Was the start of his conversation with someone somewhere else.
Some small amount of time went by. I started to fidget. Motorcycle Jacket-Guy notices me, and turns around so he doesnâ€™t have to see me. His conversation with the tiny box continues.
Time passes. I need to go get my food, but weâ€™re running out of time. Will this guy get off the phone soon?
â€œâ€¦ yeh! No, it was jusâ€™ funny! Thinkinâ€™ weâ€™ll do that was jusâ€™ funny is allâ€¦ yehâ€¦â€
I go and get lunch.
I return. The conversation with the tiny metal thing continues.
I look to the Filthy Assistant for any information, but heâ€™s busy wit a customer. I travel through the store to my office, put down the bag with my food in it, and head back to the front so I can hopefully get this meeting started.
I walk up to Motorcycle Jacket-Guy from his side and deliberately pose myself with a slightly annoyed look. He sees me and turns to face the other direction.
â€œâ€¦ no, we ca do that. We jus gotta getâ€¦â€
I turn and do some inane busywork for a couple of minutes. *sigh*
Suddenly, it happens! â€œYeh, well, Iâ€™ll tawk to ya later. I got a â€˜ting. Yeh. Yeh. You too.â€ says Motorcycle Jacket-Guy as he thumbs a button on his phone and concludes his conversation! Yes! Now we can get to it!
Then he presses a couple of more buttons and puts the cell phone to his ear. A few seconds later he says â€œYeh. Hey, this is me. Yeh, whattaya doinâ€™? Oh yeh?…â€

I went back to my office and ate. I cruised around the â€˜Net a little, checking some work-related sites. I went and brushed my teeth.

I stroll back out to the front of the store. Motorcycle Jacket-Guy is still on the phone, but now heâ€™s got a book spread out on a display shelf and is leafing through it as he talks on his parasite.
â€œâ€¦ we gotta get over there anâ€™ get some. We take care â€˜o that, anâ€™ then we can start on that car. Yehâ€¦. Do they? Cool! Yeh!…â€

At about 3:22 Motorcycle Jacket-Guy finishes his third phone conversation. He puts away his phone and turns to me as I sit at the front workdesk. He strides over, and pulls out a rolled up book out of what I assume was his belt. He tosses it down onto the desk in front of me.
â€œAnyway,â€¦â€ starts Motorcycle Jacket-Guy, â€œThis is thâ€™ book.â€
Sitting up in the chair, I look at the book, devoting a further 3 seconds of thought to what comes next. I placed my index finger on the book and pushed it back to Motorcycle Jacket-Guy as he was sitting down on the other side of the desk.
â€œNot interested.â€ I stated flatly.
â€œWhat?â€ asked Motorcycle Jacket-Guy as he peered at me over his sunglasses. Whatâ€™s the point to wearing those things inside if you arenâ€™t going to look through them?
â€œSorry. Somethingâ€™s come up.â€ I said as I looked him in the eye and moved around the desk to get to the phone.
Motorcycle Jacket-Guy looked at the book on the desk, then at me, then at the Filthy Assistant, then at me again. At this point I was dialing on the long-corded phone.
Someone on the other end of the line picked up. â€œHello?â€ said a female voice.
â€œHi Mom!â€ I started with.

Later I contacted the creator of the book. I told him that if he wanted me to carry his book, he better meet with me himself. When he asked what was wrong, I simply stated I was unhappy with my meeting with his manager.

The book did okay. It got a write-up in the local newspaper and in the local university paper. I sold a few copies to friends of the creator. All-in-all, it ended well.

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